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THE  THOUGHT  OF  GOD 

IN 

HYMNS   AND    POEMS 

Series 


By  the  Same  Authors. 


THE  THOUGHT  OF  GOD  IN  HYMNS 
AND  POEMS.  First  Series. 
l6mo.  Cloth,  $1.00 ;  paper, 
50  cents. 


THE 

THOUGHT    OF    GOD 

IN 

HYMNS   AND    POEMS 

Seconti  Series 


BY 

FREDERICK   L.   HOSMER 

AND 

WILLIAM  C.  GANNETT 


BOSTON 

ROBERTS    BROTHERS 
1894 


Copyright,  1894 

BY    FREDERICK    L.    HOSMER   AND 
WILLIAM   C.   GANNETT 


JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON,  CAMBRIDGE 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

One  Law,  One  Life,  One  Love   .    .    .  F.  L.  H.  .    .  9 
'Who  Wert   and    Art   and    Evermore 

Shalt  Be ' W.  C.  G.  .     .  11 

In  Lonely  Vigil F.  L.  H.  .     .  13 

Edelweiss :  Translation "  .  .  14 

Edelweiss "  .  .  15 

The  Crowning  Day W.  C.  G.  .     .  16 

The  Day  of  God F.  L.  H.  .     .  18 

The  Inward  Witness "  .  .  20 

Thou  who  art  Strong  to  Heal     ...          "  .  .  22 

The  Heavenly  Helper "  .  .  24 

Church-Bells W.  C.  G.  .     .  26 

Sun-Gleams "  .  .  29 

The  Grace  of  God     ......  F.  L.  H.  ..  30 

In  Littles W.  C.  G.  .     .  31 

With  Self  Dissatisfied  .               .     .     .  F   L.  H.  .     .  33 

Behind  and  Before   .     .          ....          "  .  .  35 

'  Think  on  These  Things ' .     .          .     .          "  .  .  38 

The  Cross  on  the  Flag "  .  .  40 


Vi  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

From  Generation  to  Generation          .  F.  L.  H.    .  .  4'2 

Holy  Places "          .  .  44 

The  Building  of  the  Temple       .     .     .  W.  C.  G.  .  .  46 

The  Word  of  God     ......  "         .  .  48 

Unto  Him  All  Live F.  L.  H.    .  .  50 

Easter  Morn "          .  .  51 

Risen "          .  .  5'2 

What  will  the  Violets  be W.  C.  G.  .  .  54 

Over  the  Land  in  Glory F.  L.  H.    .  .  55 

Easter  Festival "          .  .  57 

Discipleship     ....          ....  "          .  .  59 

The  Man  of  Nazareth "          .  .  62 

Mary's  Manger-Song W.  C.  G.  .  .  64 

Whittier F.  L.  H.    .  .  66 

Whittier W.  C.  G.  .  .  67 

'Nothing  but  a  Poet ' "         .  .  68 

Rembrandt F.  L.  H.    .  .  70 

The  Sower "          .  .  72 

John  C.  Learned "          .  .  75 

'  Incarnate  Cheer' W.  C.  G.  .  .  76 

Thirty  Thousand "         .  .  77 

Golden  Wedding "         .  .  79 

Twilight "         .  .  82 

'  Death  as  Friend ' "         .  .  84 

A.  L.  G "         .  .  87 

Alma  Mater F.  L.  H.    .  .  89 

The  Village  Meeting-House  ....  "          .  .  91 


CONTENTS  vii 

PAGI 

The  Days W.  C.  G.  .  .  95 

The  Old  Love-Song "  .  .  97 

The  Dear  Togetherness "  .  .  99 

Hero  by  Brevet "  .  .  101 

Nursery  Logic "  .  .  103 

How  Little  Jo  Named  the  Baby   .     .  F.  L.  H.  .  .  106 

In  the  Albula  Pass "  .  .  109 

Coronado  Beach "  .  .  Ill 

Dover W.  C.  G.  .  .  112 

We  See  as  we  Are   ......  "  .  .  114 

Tree-Surprise .     .  "  .  .  115 

A  Day  in  October F.  L.  H.  .  .  117 


ONE   LAW,  ONE   LIFE,  ONE    LOVE 

O  PROPHET  souls  of  all  the  years, 

Bend  o'er  us  from  above ; 
Your  far-off  vision,  toils  and  tears 

Now  to  fulfilment  move  1 

From  tropic  clime  and  zones  of  frost 
They  come,  of  every  name,  — 

This,  this  our  day  of  Pentecost, 
The  Spirit's  tongue  of  flame ! 

The  ancient  barriers  disappear : 
Down  bow  the  mountains  high ; 

The  sea-divided  shores  draw  near 
In  a  world's  unity. 

One  Life  together  we  confess, 

One  all-indwelling  Word, 
One  holy  Call  to  righteousness 

Within  the  silence  heard: 


10     ONE  LAW,  ONE  LIFE,  ONE  LOVE 

One  Law  that  guides  the  shining  spheres 
As  on  through  space  they  roll, 

And  speaks  in  flaming  characters 
On  Sinais  of  the  soul : 

One  Love,  unfathomed,  measureless, 

An  ever-flowing  sea, 
That  holds  within  its  vast  embrace 

Time  and  eternity. 

World's  Parliament  of  Religions 
CHICAGO,  1893 


'WHO  WERT  AND  ART  AND 
EVERMORE  SHALT  BE' 

BRING,  O   Morn,  thy  music!      Bring,  O 

Night,  thy  hushes ! 
Oceans,  laugh  the  rapture  to  the  storm-winds 

coursing  free ! 
Suns  and  stars  are  singing,  Thou  art  our 

Creator, 

Who  wert  and  art  and  evermore  shalt 
be! 

Life  and  Death,  thy  creatures,  praise  thee, 

Mighty  Giver ! 
Praise  and  prayer  are  rising  in  thy  beast 

and  bird  and  tree  : 
Lo !  they  praise  and  vanish,  vanish  at  thy 

bidding,  — 

Who  wert  and  art  and  evermore  shalt 
be! 


12  '  WHO    WERT  AND  ART' 

Light  us  !  lead  us  !  love  us  !  cry  thy  grop 
ing  nations, 

Pleading  in  the  thousand  tongues  but  nam 
ing  only  thee, 

Weaving  blindly  out  thy  holy,  happy  pur 
pose,  — 

Who  wert  and  art  and  evermore  shalt 
be! 

Life  nor  Death  can  part  us,  O  thou  Love 

Eternal, 
Shepherd  of  the  wandering  star  and  souls 

that  wayward  flee  ! 
Homeward  draws  the  spirit  to  thy  Spirit 

yearning,  — 

Who  wert  and  art  and  evermore  shalt 
be! 

1393 


IN  LONELY  VIGIL 

O  THOU  in  lonely  vigil  led 
To  follow  Truth's  new-risen  star 
Ere  yet  her  morning  skies  are  red, 
And  vale  and  upland  shadowed  are,  — 

Gird  up  thy  loins  and  take  thy  road, 
Obedient  to  the  vision  be  : 
Trust  not  in  numbers  ;  God  is  God, 
And  one  with  Him  majority  ! 

Soon  pass  the  judgments  of  the  hour, 
Forgotten  are  the  scorn  and  blame  ; 
The  Word  moves  on,  a  gladdening  power, 
And  safe  enshrines  the  prophet's  fame, 

Now,  as  of  old,  in  lowly  plight 
The  Christ  of  larger  faith  is  born : 
The  watching  shepherds  come  by  night, 
And  then  —  the  kings  of  earth  at  morn  ! 

Emerson  Commemoration,  W.  U.  C.,  1888 


EDELWEISS 

From  the  German  of  Hermann  Lingg 

Ox  the  rock  and  girt  with  ice, 
Neighbor  to  the  circling  star, 

Bloomest  thou,  dear  edelweiss, 
From  all  other  flowers  afar; 

By  their  joyous  spring  unblest, 

Lonely  on  the  rock's  cold  breast. 

Where  the  lightnings  have  their  home, 
And  the  startled  chamois  listen, 

Where  the  plunging  waters  foam, 
Eagles  reign,  and  glaciers  glisten,  — 

Death  and  terror  everywhere,  — 

Pure  and  glad  thou  bloomest  there. 

So  stands  he  in  noble  pain, 

Lone  anear  the  arching  heaven, 

Lonely  proud,  who  worldly  gain, 
Smiles  and  honors,  all  has  given 

Freely  as  his  freedom's  price,  — 

As  thou  bloomest,  edelweiss ! 

1891 


EDELWEISS 

THIS  edelweiss  I  wear  was  not  first  mine ; 

I  had  it  cheaply  in  the  little  town 

Of  one  who  from  the  mountains  had  come 

down ; 
A  meek-eyed  man,  rough-clad,  with  many  a 

sign 

Of  burning  sun  and  of  the  tempest's  frown. 
Now  through  the  valley,  with  its  corn  and 

wine, 
His  star-blooms  badge  the  thronging  tourists 

fine 
Whose  feet  his   toilsome  path  have   never 

known. 

O  prophet  souls,  who  with  bruised  feet  have 

trod 
The  heaven-lit  heights  and  thence  to  us  have 

brought 

Your  wider  vision,  your  high-hearted  faith, 
Your  hope  for  Man,  your  larger  thought  of 

God,  — 

We  wear  your  edelweiss  ;  Life's  common  lot 
Ever  to  your  high  service  witnesseth! 

SWITZERLAND,  1888 


THE  CROWNING  DAY 

THE  morning  hangs  its  signal 

Upon  the  mountain's  crest, 

While  all  the  sleeping  valleys 

In  silent  darkness  rest ; 
From  peak  to  peak  it  flashes, 

It  laughs  along  the  sky 
That  the  crowning  day  is  coming  by  and  by ! 
Chorus:  O,  the  crowning  day  is  coming, 

Is  coming  by  and  by  ! 
We  can  see  the  rose  of  morning, 

A  glory  in  the  sky. 
And  that  splendor  on  the  hill-tops 

O'er  all  the  land  shall  lie 
In  the  crowning  day  that 's  coming 
by  and  by ! 

Above  the  generations 

The  lonely  prophets  rise,  — 
The  Truth  flings  dawn  and  day-star 

Within  their  glowing  eyes ; 


THE  CROWNING  DAY  17 

From  heart  to  heart  it  brightens, 

It  draweth  ever  nigh, 

Till  it  crowneth  all  men  thinking,  by  and  by  I 
Chorus :  O,  the  crowning  day  is  coming ! 

The  soul  hath  lifted  moments 

Above  the  drift  of  days, 
When  life's  great  meaning  breakcth 

In  sunrise  on  our  ways  ; 
From  hour  to  hour  it  haunts  us, 

The  vision  draweth  nigh, 
Till  it  crowneth  living,  dying,  by  and  by  ! 
Chorus  :  O,  the  crowning  day  is  coming  ! 

And  in  the  sunrise  standing, 

Our  kindling  hearts  confess 
That  '  no  good  thing  is  failure, 

No  evil  thing  success  1 ' 
From  age  to  age  it  groweth, 

That  radiant  faith  so  high, 
And  its  crowning  day  is  coming  by  and  by  ! 
Chorus :  O,  the  crowning  day  is  coming  ! 

Music  :  '  Gospel  Hymns,'  No.  416.     1886 


THE  DAY  OF   GOD 

THY  kingdom  come,  —  on  bended  knee 

The  passing  ages  pray  ; 
And  faithful  souls  have  yearned  to  see 

On  earth  that  kingdom's  day. 

But  the  slow  watches  of  the  night 

Not  less  to  God  belong, 
And  for  the  everlasting  Right 

The  silent  stars  are  strong. 

And  lo  !  already  on  the  hills 

The  flags  of  dawn  appear  ; 
Gird  up  your  loins,  ye  prophet  souls, 

Proclaim  the  day  is  near ! 

The  day  in  whose  clear-shining  light 
All  wrong  shall  stand  revealed ; 

When  justice  shall  be  throned  in  might, 
And  every  hurt  be  healed  : 


THE  DAY  OF   GOD  19 

When  knowledge  hand  in  hand  with  peace 
Shall  walk  the  earth  abroad,  — 

The  day  of  perfect  righteousness, 
The  promised  day  of  God! 

M.  T.  S.,  June  12,  1891 


THE   INWARD   WITNESS 

O  THOU  whose  Spirit  witness  bears 

Within  our  spirits  free 
That  we  thy  children  are  and  heirs 

Of  thine  eternity,  — 

Here  may  this  simple  faith  sublime 

O'er-arch  us  like  the  sky; 
Secure  below  the  drift  of  time 

Its  firm  foundations  lie. 

Our  thought  o'erflows  each  written  scroll, 
Our  creeds,  they  rise  and  fall ; 

The  life  of  God  within  the  soul 
Lives  and  outlasts  them  all. 

Here  may  that  witness  clearer  grow 

Each  waiting  heart  within, 
The  way  of  filial  duty  show 

And  glad  obedience  win. 


THE  INWARD    WITNESS  21 

Here  be  life's  sorrows  sanctified, 
Here  truth  her  radiance  pour  ; 

While  hope  and  faith  and  love  abide. 
Forever  more  and  more  1 

For  T.  K.,  OMAHA,  1891 


THOU  WHO   ART    STRONG    TO 
HEAL 

O  FOUNT  of  Being's  sea, 
Forever  flowing  free, 

The  One  in  all,  — 
Thou  whom  no  eye  e'er  saw, 
Indwelling  Love  and  Law, 
To  thee  we  suppliant  draw, 

On  thee  we  call. 

Be  consecrate  to  truth, 
In  manhood  as  in  youth, 

Our  growing  powers; 
That  we  may  read  thy  thought 
Nature  and  Life  inwrought, 
Thy  perfect  will  be  taught, 

And  make  it  ours  ! 

Thine  image  may  we  own 

In  Man,  creation's  crown. 

These  temples  thine : 


THOU  WHO  ART  STRONG  23 

Holy  our  calling  be, 
From  bonds  of  pain  to  free, 
And  bring  the  liberty 
Of  life  divine ! 

Thy  presence  still  abide 
Within  these  walls  to  guide, 

Inspire  and  bless ; 
Thou  who  art  strong  to  heal, 
The  Christ-like  touch  reveal, 
And  in  each  spirit  seal 

Thy  tenderness  1 

Rush  Medical  College,  CHICAGO,  1891 


THE   HEAVENLY   HELPER 

UNTO  thee,  abiding  ever, 

Look  I  in  my  need, 
Strength  of  every  good  endeavor, 

Holy  thought  and  deed  ! 

Thou  dost  guide  the  stars  of  heaven. 

Heal  the  broken  heart, 
Bring  in  turn  the  morn  and  even,  — 

Law  and  Love  thou  art. 

Clouds  and  darkness  are  about  thee, 
Just  and  sure  thy  throne,  — 

Not  a  sparrow  falls  without  thee, 
All  to  thee  is  known. 

Origin  and  end  of  being, 

All  things  in  and  through,  — 

Light  thou  art  of  all  my  seeing, 
Power  to  will  and  do. 


THE  HEAVENLY  HELPER  25 

Through  my  life,  whate'er  betide  me, 

Thou  my  trust  shalt  be ; 
Whom  have  I  on  earth  beside  thee, 

Whom  in  heaven  but  thee  ? 


1886 


CHURCH-BELLS 

OVER  hills  and  valleys, 

Over  prairies  wide, 
Quiet  call  the  church-bells 

To  the  altar-side. 
High  in  old  cathedrals 

Chant  the  brazen  lips, 
Down  the  leafy  by-ways 

Airy  pleading  slips. 

In  his  toil  the  worker 

Pauses  at  the  sound,  — 
Heaven  a  little  nearer, 

Earth  a  holier  ground. 
At  the  sound  the  Sundays 

With  low  music  fill,  — 
Hark  !  the  lands  are  singing, 

Then  with  prayers  are  still. 

Softer  than  the  church-bells 
With  their  mellow  peal, 

Softer,  sweeter  calling, 
Mystic  voices  steal ; 


CHURCH  BELLS  27 

All  the  shadowy  valleys 

Memory  calls  her  own, 
All  the  spirit's  hill-tops 

Listen  for  the  tone. 


Every  soul  that  listens 

Hears  the  secret  chime,  — 
Bells  from  quiet  inlands 

Out  of  space  or  time; 
Mother-tones  will  stir  them, 

Child-appeals  will  start, 
Hero-deeds  will  set  them 

Ringing  in  the  heart. 


Matin  calls  of  duty 

Wake  us  every  day ; 
'Mid  each  happy  labor 

Angelus  says  '  Pray  1 ' 
Every  hour  that  passes 

Hath  a  vesper  end, 
Breathing,  '  One  who  sleeps  not 

Is  thy  constant  Friend.' 


28  CHURCH  BELLS 

Every  hope  that  wings  us, 

Making  eagle-free, 
Every  shame  that  bows  us, 

Every  loyalty, 
Each  new  joy  and  laughter, 

Sorrows  old  that  hide,  — 
Are  God's  church-bells  calling 

To  an  altar-side. 

1891 


SUN-GLEAMS 

As  silent  as  the  sun-gleam  in  the  forest, 
As  quiet  as  the  shadow  on  the  hill, 

Is  the  shining  of  the  Spirit  in  our  dimness, 
Is  the  failing  of  its  calm  upon  our  will. 

But  subtler  than  the  sun-lift  in  the   leaf-bud, 
That  thrills  through  all  the  forests,  mak 
ing  May, 
And  stronger  than  the  strength  that  plants 

the  mountains, 

Is  that  shining  in  the  heart-lands,  bringing 
day. 

AUSABLE  PONDS,  1889 


THE  GRACE  OF   GOD 

'My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee  ' 

'MiD  my  life's  vicissitude, 
Seeming  evil  mixed  with  good ; 
'Mid  its  pleasure  and  its  pain, 
Alternating  loss  and  gain,  — 
Be  thou  still  my  staff  and  rod, 
All-sustaining  grace  of  God! 

Like  a  pilgrim  here  I  pass, 
Darkly  see  as  through  a  glass; 
Little  know  I  of  the  way, 
What  shall  be  I  cannot  say,  — 
Let  thy  light  upon  me  shine, 
All-sufficient  grace  divine  ! 

'Mid  my  ever-changing  mood 
God  who  changeth  not  is  good ; 
And  his  word  within  I  have, 
He  will  guard  the  life  he  gave,  - 
Sing,  my  soul,  along  thy  road, 
Happy  in  the  grace  of  God. 


1877 


IN  LITTLES 

A  LITTLE  House  of  Life, 
With  many  noises  rife, 

Noises  of  joy  and  crime ; 
A  little  gate  of  birth 
Through  which  I  slipped  to  Earth 

And  found  myself  in  Time. 

And  there,  not  far  before, 
Another  little  door, 

One  day  to  swing  so  free  ! 
None  pauses  there  to  knock, 
No  other  hand  tries  lock,  — 

It  knows,  and  waits  for  me. 

From  out  what  Silent  Land 
I  came,  on  Earth  to  stand 

And  learn  life's  little  art, 
Is  not  in  me  to  say : 
I  know  I  did  not  stray,  — 

Was  sent ;  to  come,  my  part. 


32  IN  LITTLES 

And  down  what  Silent  Shore 
Beyond  yon  little  door 

I  pass,  I  cannot  tell ; 
I  know  I  shall  not  stray, 
Nor  ever  lose  the  way,  — 

Am  sent ;  and  all  is  well. 

1891 


WITH   SELF  DISSATISFIED 


when,  with  self  dissatisfied, 
O  Lord,  I  lowly  lie, 
So  much  I  need  thy  grace  to  guide, 
And  thy  reproving  eye,  — 

As  when  the  sound  of  human  praise 

Grows  pleasant  to  my  ear, 
And  in  its  light  my  broken  ways 

Fair  and  complete  appear. 

By  failure  and  defeat  made  wise, 

We  come  to  know  at  length 
What  strength  within  our  weakness  lies, 

What  weakness  in  our  strength  : 

What  inward  peace  is  born  of  strife, 
What  power,  of  being  spent  ; 

What  wings  unto  our  upward  life 
Is  noble  discontent. 
3 


34  WITH  SELF  DISSATISFIED 

O  Lord,  we  need  thy  shaming  look 
That  burns  all  low  desire ; 

The  discipline  of  thy  rebuke 
Shall  be  refining  fire  ! 

1893 


BEHIND  AND  BEFORE 

'ONE  thing  I  do;  the  things  behind  forget 
ting 

And  reaching  forward  to  the  things  before, 
Unto  the  goal,  the  prize  of  God's  high  calling, 
Onward  I  press,'  —  said  that  great  soul  of 
yore. 

And  in  the  heart,  like   strains    of    martial 

music, 
Echo  the  words  of    courage,  trust,    and 

cheer, 

The  while  we  stand,  half  hoping,  half  re 
gretting, 
Between  the  coming  and  the  parting  year. 

Behind  are  joys,  fond  hopes  that  found  ful 
filment, 

Sweet  fellowships,  glad  toil  of  hand  and 
brain. 


36  BEHIND  AND  BEFORE 

Unanswered   prayers,  burdens   of   loss  and 

sorrow, 
Faces  that  look  no  more  in  ours  again. 

Before  us  lie  the  hills,  sunlit  with  promise, 
Fairer  fulfilments   than    the    past    could 

know, 
New  growths  of    soul,  new  leadings  of  the 

Spirit, 
And  all  the  glad  surprises  God  will  show. 

All  we  have  done,  or  nobly  failed  in  doing, 
All  we  have  been,  or  bravely  striven  to  be, 

Makes  for  our  gain,  within  us  still  surviving 
As  power  and  larger  possibility. 

All,  all  shall  count;    the  mingled   joy  and 
sorrow 

To  force  of  finer  being  rise  at  last : 
From  the  crude  ores  in  trial's  furnace  smelted 

The  image  of  the  perfect  life  is  cast. 

'  Onward  I  press,  the  things  behind  forget 
ting 

And  reaching  forward  to  the  things  be 
fore  : ' 


BEHIND  AND  BEFORE  37 

Ring  the  brave  words  like  strains  of  martial 

music 

As   we    pass    through   the    New   Year's 
opened  door. 

1890 


'THINK   ON  THESE   THINGS' 

'  Whatsoever  things  are  true,  whatsoever  things 
are  honorable,  whatsoever  things  are  just,  whatso 
ever  things  are  pure,  whatsoever  things  are  lovely, 
whatsoever  things  are  of  good  report,  if  there  be 
any  virtue,  and  if  there  be  any  praise,  think  on 
these  things.' 

WHATSOEVER  is  just  and  pure, 

Think  on  these  things,  my  soul ! 
Earth  shall  vanish,  but  these  endure, 
Think  on  these  things,  my  soul ! 
When  all  else  shall  fail  thee, 
These  shall  still  avail  thee  ; 
Think  on  these  things,  strive  for  these  things, 
Cherish  these  things,  my  soul! 

Truth  and  honor,  they  call  to  thee, 
Think  on  these  things,  my  soul ! 

What  of  virtue  and  praise  there  be, 
Think  on  these  things,  my  soul ! 


THINK  ON   THESE    THINGS        39 

These  have  been  the  glory 
Of  all  human  story  ; 

Think  on  these  things,  strive  for  these  things, 
Cherish  these  things,  my  soul ! 

Faithful  spirits  before  have  gone, 

Think  on  these  things,  my  soul ! 
Grand  thy  heritage,  hero-won, 
Think  on  these  things,  my  soul ! 
From  all  brave  endeavor 
Springeth  good  forever ; 
Think  on  these  things,  strive  for  these  things, 
Cherish  these  things,  my  soul ! 

Music:   'Gospel  Hymns,' No.  282 


THE   CROSS  ON  THE  FLAG 

FROM  age  to  age  they  gather,  all  the  brave 

of  heart  and  strong, 
la  the  strife  of  truth  with  error,  of  the  right 

against  the  wrong ; 
I  can  see  their  gleaming  banner,  I  can  hear 

their  triumph-song : 

The  Truth  is  marching  on  ! 

'  In  this  sign  we  conquer ; '  't  is  the  symbol 

of  our  faith, 
Made  holy  by  the  might  of  love  triumphant 

over  death ; 
He  finds  his  life  who  loseth  it,  forevermore 

it  saith : 

The  Right  is  marching  on ! 

The  earth  is  circling  onward  out  of  shadow 
into  light ; 

The  stars  keep  watch  above  our  way,  how 
ever  dark  the  night ; 


THE  CROSS  ON  THE  FLAG         41 

For  every  martyr's  stripe  there  glows  a  bar 
of  morning  bright : 

And  Love  is  marching  on  ! 

Lead  on,  O  cross  of  martyr-faith,  with  thee 

is  victory ! 
Shine  forth,  O  stars   and  reddening  dawn, 

the  full  day  yet  shall  be  ! 
On  earth  his  kingdom  cometh,  and  with  joy 

our  eyes  shall  see  : 

Our  God  is  marching  on ! 

For  S.  S.  H.,  DECORAH,  IA.,  1891 


FROM  GENERATION  TO  GENERA 
TION 

O  LIGHT,  from  age  to  age  the  same, 

Forever  living  Word,  — 
Here  have  we  felt  thy  kindling  flame, 

Thy  voice  within  have  heard. 

Here  holy  thought  and  hymn  and  prayer 
Have  winged  the  spirit's  powers, 

And  made  these  walls  divinely  fair,  — 
Thy  temple,  Lord,  and  ours. 

What  visions  rise  above  the  years, 
What  tender  memories  throng, 

Till  the  eye  fills  with  happy  tears, 
The  heart  with  grateful  song  ! 

Vanish  the  mists  of  time  and  sense  ; 

They  come,  the  loved  of  yore, 
And  one  encircling  Providence 

Holds  all  for  evermore. 


PROM  GENERATION,  ETC.  43 

O,  not  in  vain  their  toil  who  wrought 
To  build  faith's  freer  shrine,  — 

Nor  theirs  whose  steadfast  love  and  thought 
Have  watched  the  fire  divine. 

Burn,  holy  fire,  and  shine  more  wide  ! 

While  systems  rise  and  fall, 
Faith,  hope,  and  charity  abide, 

The  heart  and  soul  of  all. 

QUINCY,  ILL.  :  Fiftieth  Anniversary,  1890 


HOLY  PLACES 

WHERE  men  on  mounts  of  vision 

Have  passed  the  veil  within, 
Where  hearts  bowed  in  contrition 

Have  risen  from  their  sin, 
Where  light  on  upturned  faces 

Earth's  Calvaries  has  crowned,  - 
Here  are  her  holy  places, 

This,  consecrated  ground. 

Where  life  is  nobly  given 

And  man  for  man  has  died, 
Where  bonds  of  wrong  are  riven 

And  right  is  glorified,  — 
One  faith  the  spirit  traces, 

Brightening  from  age  to  age  ; 
These  are  earth's  holy  places 

And  shrines  of  pilgrimage. 


HOLY  PLACES  45 

Here,  Lord,  may  thy  revealing 

In  waiting  hearts  be  known, 
Here  holier  thought  and  feeling 

The  secret  Presence  own : 
May  prayer  and  aspiration, 

In-shinings  of  thy  grace, 
And  sorrow's  consolation 

Make  this  our  holy  place  1 

Still  from  the  spirit's  essence 

All  things  new  meaning  win; 
The  temple  of  thy  presence 

Is  ever,  Lord,  within. 
May  outward  dedication 

Have  inward  seal  and  sign, 
The  spirit's  consecration 

Make  beautiful  the  shrine ! 

For  C.  W.  W.,  OAKLAND,  CAL.,  1891 


THE    BUILDING    OF   THE  TEMPLE 

THE    CORNER-STONE 

HE  laid  his  rocks  in  courses, 

His  forest  crowned  the  hill, 
He  yoked  the  ancient  forces 

And  lent  them  to  our  will ; 
The  heart  he  woke  to  duty, 

He  graced  the  builder's  thought,— 
He  gave  Creation  beauty, 

And  he  the  Temple  wrought ! 

Now,  Father,  build  within  us 

The  Temple's  counterpart, 
Deep  laid  in  holy  purpose, 

Fair  colored  of  the  heart ; 
Its  windows  heaven-lighted, 

Peace  and  Good-will  its  plan, 
Its  towers  our  Faith  and  Worship, 

Its  doors  the  Love  of  Man  ! 

1888 


BUILDING  OP   THE   TEMPLE        47 
THE   DEDICATION 

To  cloisters  of  the  spirit 

These  aisles  of  quiet  lead : 
Here  may  the  vision  gladden, 

The  voice  within  us  plead  ! 
And  may  the  dear  All-Father, 

Who  maketh  trouble  cease, 
Here  send  his  two,  the  blessed, 

His  angels  Shame  and  Peace  ! 

Here  be  no  man  a  stranger  ; 

No  holy  cause  be  banned  ; 
No  good  for  one  be  counted 

Not  good  for  all  the  land  ! 
And  here  for  prophet  voices 

The  message  never  fail,  — 
'  God  reigns  I    His  Truth  shall  conquer, 

And  Right  and  Love  prevail! ' 

1894 


THE  WORD  OF  GOD 

IT  sounds  along  the  ages, 

Soul  answering  to  soul ; 
It  kindles  on  the  pages 

Of  every  Bible  scroll ; 
The  psalmists  heard  and  sang  it, 

From  martyr-lips  it  broke, 
And  prophet-tongues  outrang  it 

Till  sleeping  nations  woke. 

From  Sinai's  cliffs  it  echoed, 

It  breathed  from  Buddha's  tree, 
It  charmed  in  Athens'  market, 

It  gladdened  Galilee ; 
The  hammer-stroke  of  Luther, 

The  Pilgrims'  sea-side  prayer, 
The  oracles  of  Concord, 

One  holy  Word  declare. 


THE   WORD  OF  GOD  49 

It  dates  each  new  ideal,  — 

Itself  it  knows  not  time ; 
Man's  laws  but  catch  the  music 

Of  its  eternal  chime. 
It  calls  —  and  lo,  new  Justice ! 

It  speaks  —  and  lo,  new  Truth  ! 
In  ever  nobler  stature 

And  unexhausted  youth. 

It  everywhere  arriveth ; 

Recks  not  of  small  and  great ; 
It  shapes  the  unborn  atom, 

It  tells  the  sun  its  fate. 
The  wing-beat  of  archangel 

Its  boundary  never  nears  : 
Forever  on  it  soundeth 

The  music  of  the  spheres ! 

1894 


UNTO  HIM  ALL  LIVE 

O  LORD  of  Life,  where'er  they  be, 
Safe  in  thine  own  eternity, 
Our  dead  are  living  unto  thee. 

All  souls  are  thine  and,  here  or  there, 
They  rest  within  thy  sheltering  care ; 
One  providence  alike  they  share. 

Thy  word  is  true,  thy  ways  are  just ; 
Above  the  requiem  '  dust  to  dust ' 
Shall  rise  our  psalm  of  grateful  trust. 

O  happy  they  in  God  who  rest, 

No  more  by  fear  and  doubt  oppressed  ; 

Living  or  dying  they  are  blest. 

Alleluia ! 
1888 


EASTER  MORN 

ON  eyes  that  watch  through  sorrow's  night, 

On  aching  hearts  and  worn, 
Rise  thou  with  healing  in  thy  light, 

O  happy  Easter  morn  1 

The  dead  earth  wakes  beneath  thy  rays, 

The  tender  grasses  spring ; 
The  woods  put  on  their  robes  of  praise, 

And  flowers  are  blossoming. 

O  shine  within  the  spirit's  skies, 

Till,  in  thy  kindling  glow, 
From  out  the  buried  memories 

Immortal  hopes  shall  grow : 

Till  from  the  seed  oft  sown  in  grief, 

And  wet  with  bitter  tears, 
Our  faith  shall  bind  the  harvest  sheaf 

Of  the  eternal  years  1 

1890 


RISEN 

THEY  came,  bringing  spices,  at  break  of  the 

day 
With  hearts  heavy-laden  and  sore, 

And,  lo,  from  the  tomb  was  the  stone  rolled 
away, 

An  angel  sat  there  by  the  door  ! 
'  Why  seek  ye  the  living  'mid   emblems  of 

death  ? 
Not  here,  he  is  risen,'  the  shining  one  saith. 

O  type  through  the  ages  and  symbol  of  faith, 

Whose  spirit  is  true  evermore  : 
The  hearts  we  have  cherished  we  lose  not  in 

death, 

The  grave  over  love  hath  no  power. 
There  sitteth  the  angel,  there  speaketh  the 

word,  — 

'  Not    here,  they    are   risen,'  in    silence   is 
heard. 


RISEN  53 

O  ye  who  still  watch  in  the  valley  of  tears 

And  wait  for  the  night  to  go  by, 
Lift,  lift  up   your  eyes,  on   the   mountains 

appears 

The  day-spring  of  God  from  on  high  ! 
He  turneth  the  shadows  of  night  into  day,  — 
'  Not  here,  they  are  risen,'  his  shining  ones 
say. 

SAKTA  BAKBAKA,  1894 


WHAT  WILL   THE  VIOLETS  BE? 
S.  A.  M. 

WHAT  will  the  violets  be 

There  in  the  Spring  of  springs  ? 
What  will  the  bird-song  be 

Where  the  very  tree-bough  sings? 
What  will  their  Easter  be 

Where  never  are  dead  to  mourn, 
But  brightly  the  faces  ask, 

'  O,  when  will  the  rest  be  born  ?  ' 

Brighter  the  Easter  shines 

On  the  faces  here  below, 
That  they  are  behind  the  flowers, 

The  heart  of  the  living  glow. 
Beautiful  secret,  wait ! 

A  morrow  or  two,  and  we 
Shall  know  in  the  Spring  of  springs 

What  the  violets  will  be. 
1886 


OVER   THE  LAND  IN  GLORY 

OVER  the  land  in  glory 

Breaketh  the  Easter  morn  : 
Nature  repeateth  her  story,  — 

Life  out  of  death  new-born ! 
Lo,  the  year  's  at  the  Spring, 

Buds  are  blossoming, 
Earth  and  heavens  sing : 

Life  is  life  forever,  evermore  1 

Listen,  the  birds  are  singing, 

Softly  the  south  winds  play ; 
Bells  in  the  steeples  ringing 

Welcome  the  festal  day  : 
And  the  message  they  bear 

On  the  radiant  air 

Chides  sorrow  and  fear : 

Life  is  life  forever,  evermore  ! 


56        OVER    THE  LAND  IN  GLORY 

Skies  of  the  spirit  brighten, 

Hopes  like  the  birds  return  : 
Hearts  with  the  promise  lighten, — 

'  Blessed  are  they  that  mourn.' 
To  each  winter  a  Spring 

God  will  surely  bring, 

And  the  heart  shall  sing  : 

Life  is  life  forever,  evermore  ! 

Music :  '  King's-Chapel  Carols,1  No.  49.  1890 


EASTER   FESTIVAL 

Lo,  the  Day  of  days  is  here, 
Earth  puts  on  her  robes  of  cheer : 
Day  of  hope  and  prophecy, 
Feast  of  Immortality ! 
Fields  are  smiling  in  the  sun, 
Loosened  streamlets  seaward  run, 
Tender  blade  and  leaf  appear, 
'T  is  the  Springtide  of  the  year  ! 
Day  of  hope  and  prophecy, 
Feast  of  Immortality  1 

Lo,  the  Day  of  days  is  here, 
Hearts,  awake  and  sing  with  cheer  ! 
He  who  robes  his  earth  anew 
Careth  for  his  children  too. 
They  who  look  to  him  in  faith 
Triumph  over  fear  and  death ; 
Speaks  the  angel  by  the  door 
'  They  are  risen  '  evermore. 


58  EASTER  FESTIVAL 

Day  of  hope  and  prophecy, 
Feast  of  Immortality  1 

Lo,  the  Day  of  days  is  here, 
Music  thrills  the  atmosphere. 
Join,  ye  people  all,  and  sing 
Love  and  praise  and  thanksgiving  ! 
Rocky  steep  or  flowery  mead, 
One  the  Shepherd  that  doth  lead  ; 
One  the  hope  within  us  born, 
One  the  joy  of  Easter  morn  ! 
Day  of  hope  and  prophecy, 
Feast  of  Immortality  ! 

Music  :  '  King's-Chapel  Carols,'  No.  4.     1890 


DISCIPLESHIP 

ON  the  Judaean  hills 

Would  I  have  seen  the  light 
The  watching  shepherds  saw, 

Turning  to  noon  the  night  V 
Would  I  have  seen  the  star 

That  new  in  heaven  shone, 
And  followed  with  the  few 

The  new-born  Christ  to  ownV 

And  if  mine  ears  had  heard 

The  Man  of  Galilee 
Speaking  from  heart  aflame 

The  Truth  that  maketh  free, 
Turning  from  priest  and  scribe, 

Dead  rite  and  parchment  roll, 
Would  1  have  hailed  in  him 

A  Prophet  of  the  Soul  ? 


60  DISCIPLESHIP 

Those  words  upon  the  mount, 

By  way-sides,  in  the  town,  — 
Unwelcome  to  his  time, 

Now  Holy  Scripture  grown,  — 
Would  I  have  read  in  them 

A  message  from  on  high, 
Or  joined  the  multitude 

Who  cried  out  Crucify  ? 

Ah,  vain  for  you  or  me 

To  question  thus  the  Past ! 
Not  then  but  now  for  us 

The  fateful  choice  is  cast ; 
Ever  the  larger  faith 

Makes  way  'mid  doubt  and  scorn, 
And  in  its  latest  word 

Anew  the  Christ  is  born. 

The  true  disciples  they, 

The  wide  earth  o'er,  who  own 
Truth  in  her  manger  low, 

Ere  yet  she  mounts  the  throne : 
Who  from  the  dead  Christ's  tomb 

Take  not  the  stones  to  slay 
In  blinded  fear  and  rage 

The  living  Christ  to-day. 


DISCIPLESHIP  61 

They  hear  the  angels'  song, 

'T  is  they  who  see  the  light 
The  watching  shepherds  saw 

Making  the  heavens  bright : 
They  see  the  self-same  star 

O'er  Bethlehem  that  shone, 
And  follow  joyful  forth 

The  new-born  Christ  to  own. 


1888 


THE   MAN   OF   NAZARETH 

'  A  CLOUD  received  him  out  of  sight,'  — 
Even  so ;  and  then  men  knew  no  more 

The  human  presence  warm  and  bright, 
As  he  had  walked  the  earth  before ; 

The  preacher  of  the  mountain-side, 
Teaching  the  kingdom's  reign  within, 

Strong  in  rebuke  of  hardened  pride, 
Yet  pitiful  of  conscious  sin; 

But  sceptered  now,  and  throned  afar, 
They  watched  in  dread  his  swift  return, 

To  see  before  his  judgment  bar 

The  earth  dissolve  and  heavens  burn. 

The  gathered  clouds  of  centuries  lift; 

No  king  in  wrath  descends  to  reign, 
Yet  king-like  through  the  shining  rift 

The  Man  of  Nazareth  comes  again. 


THE  MAN  OP  NAZARETH         63 

O  Friend  and  Brother,  draw  more  near 
The  while  thy  festival  we  keep ; 

Diviner  shall  our  lives  appear 
Held  fast  in  thy  high  fellowship. 

Christmas,  1890 


MARY'S  MANGER-SONG 

SLEEP,  my  little  Jesus, 

On  thy  bed  of  hay, 
While  the  shepherds  homeward 

Journey  on  their  way  ! 
Mother  is  thy  shepherd 

And  will  vigil  keep  : 
O,  did  the  angels  wake  thee  ? 

Sleep,  my  Jesus,  sleep ! 

Sleep,  my  little  Jesus, 

While  thou  art  my  own ! 
Ox  and  ass  thy  neighbors,  — 

Shalt  thou  have  a  throne  ? 
Will  they  call  me  blessed  ? 

Shall  I  stand  and  weep  ? 
O,  be  it  far,  Jehovah  ! 

Sleep,  my  Jesus,  sleep  I 


MARY'S  MANGER-SONG  65 

Sleep,  my  little  Jesus, 

Wonder-baby  mine ! 
Well  the  singing  angels 

Greet  thee  as  divine. 
Through  my  heart,  as  heaven, 

Low  the  echoes  sweep 
Of  Glory  to  Jehovah ! 

Sleep,  my  Jesus,  sleep  ! 

Music  :  '  The  Carol,'  page  44.     1882 


WHITTIER 

No  thrush  at  eve  had  ever  sweeter  song 
Than  thine  whose  voice  no  more  on  earth 

we  hear  ; 
Nor  winds  and  flowing  streams  more  please 

the  ear, 

Nor  to  the  speech  of  Nature  more  belong. 
And  yet  thy  heart  beat  ever  with  the  throng 
Of  toil  ;  the  lowliest  life  thou  didst  revere 
And  the  wide  law  of  brotherhood  hold  dear, 
Most  mindful  still  of  all  who  suffered  wrong. 

Best  loved  of  all  the  choir  we  loved  so  well, 
'T  was  thine  to  bring  again  the  Master  near, 
And  hymn  to  men  the  Goodness  without  end  : 
Psalmist  we  call  thee  of  our  Israel, 
Child  of  the  Spirit,  poet,  prophet,  seer,  — 
And  to  us  all,  of  every  name,  the  Friend  ! 

1892 


WHITTIER 

A  RUGGED  rock  is  the  mountain, 

Rock  from  the  base  to  crown ; 
But  the  mountain  glens  and  valleys, 

Where  the  brooks  come  leaping  down, 
Are  gardens  of  tender,  ferny  things, 

Sweet  tangles  of  green  and  brown. 

Like  the  mountain  stood  our  poet  1 

Strength  of  the  hills  was  he, 
In  the  quiet  sky  uplifted, 

A  moveless  sanctity  ; 
And  the  listening  lands  heard  thunders  roll 

Of  his  Sinai  prophecy. 

But  the  brooks  in  his  heart  were  singing, 

Singing  all  night  and  day, 
And  rhymes  like  the  mosses  nestled 

Over  the  ledges  gray, 
And  a  poet's  radiant  world  of  flowers 

Out-bloomed  from  the  Yea  and  Nay. 

1892 


'NOTHING  BUT  A  POET' 

'  He  sat  and  talked  of  his  own  early  life  and 
aspirations;  how  he  marvelled,  as  he  looked  back, 
at  the  audacious  obstinacy  which  had  made  him, 
when  a  youth,  determine  to  be  a  poet  and  noth 
ing  but  a  poet.'  —  EDMUND  GOSSE  ON  ROBERT 
BROWNING. 

1  NOTHING  but  a  poet ! '     So  he  said,  and 

wondered 

At  the  sole  persistence  of  his  years. 
Laughing  world,  you  '11  know  it,  now  that, 

silence-sundered, 
He  is  in  the  welcome  of  his  peers. 

What  said  Milton  to  him,  what  said  Keats 

and  Shakespeare  ? 
O,  to  see  the  smile  on  Dante's  face  1 
Catch  the  great  Greek  xa'Pe>  hear  the  '  bronze 

throat '  hail  him, 

'  Browning  's  come  among  us,  —  give  him 
place ! ' 


'NOTHING  BUT  A  POET'  69 

'Nothing  but  a  poet,'  singing  songs  of  soul- 
growth, 

Splendor  in  the  pain-throb,  rise  in  fall, 
'  Saul  the  failure '  in  us  re-creating  kingly,  — 

Songs  one  surge  of  morning  !   That  was  all ! 

Browning  Commemoration,  1890 


REMBRANDT 

Suggested  by   the  portrait    of  his  mother   in   the 
Hermitage,  St.  Petersburg. 

GAZING  upon  that  face  where  years  have 

wrought 

The  record  of  their  mingled  loss  and  gain, 
Where  Love  and  Death,  alternate  joy  and 

pain, 
Have    the    hid     soul    to    such    expression 

brought,  — 

Life  fills  with  vaster  meaning  to  my  thought. 
'Neath  change  and  loss  1  read  what  things 

remain 

To  crown  at  last  the  struggle  and  the  strain 
Of  all  our  days,  remembered  or  forgot. 

O  mighty  Master !  Shakespeare  of  the  brush ! 
Interpreting  to  eye,  as  he  to  ear, 


REMBRANDT  71 

The  story  of  earth's  passion  and  its  strife,  — 
Thy  genius  caught  the  new  day's  morning 

flush, 

Saw  glory  in  the  common  and  the  near, 
And  on  immortal  canvas  gave  us  LIFE  1 

1892 


THE   SOWER 

'  A  sower  went  forth  to  sow. ' 

ALONG  the  pathless  prairie 

The  tread  of  human  feet,  — 
Up  rise  the  smoke-plumed  cabins 

'Mid  springing  corn  and  wheat. 
Where,  like  a  lonely  ocean, 

The  wind-swept  grasses  swung, 
The  golden  sheaves  are  gathered, 

The  harvest  song  is  sung. 

In  vigil  of  the  spirit 

A  young-eyed  listener  heard,  — 
'  Go  forth  among  thy  fellows, 

Thy  seed  the  living  Word  ! 
By  springs  of  joy  and  sorrow, 

In  fields  of  toil  and  care, 
Through  deserts  of  temptation, 

Broadcast  thy  faith  and  prayer.' 


THE  SOWER  73 

From  year  to  year  the  prairie 

Has  waved  with  ripened  grain, 
Borne  on  the  tides  of  traffic 

Wide  over  land  and  main. 
But  who  shall  mart  the  harvest 

Of  nobler  thought  and  deed, 
Of  holier  faith  and  purpose, 

Sprung  from  the  sower's  seed  ? 


O  brave  and  faithful  sower, 

Not  thine  on  earth  to  bind 
The  full  sheaves  of  thy  harvest, 

The  growths  of  heart  and  mind 
Outspreads  in  widening  circles 

The  life-embodied  Word, 
And  they  shall  bear  thee  witness 

Thy  voice  who  never  heard. 


The  people  cease  from  labor, 
The  children  leave  their  play  ; 

All  bring  thee  love  and  honor 
To  crown  thy  festal  day. 


74  THE  SOWER 

The  heavens  glow  in  beauty 
Lit  by  the  westering  sun, 

And  God's  far  stars  shall  guide  thee 
When  the  long  day  is  done. 

Chester  Covel,  Seventieth  birthday,  1887 


JOHN    C.    LEARNED 

THY  work  abides,  though  thou  hast  passed 

from  sight : 

Unconsciously  hast  thou  thy  monument 
From  year  to  year  built  fair  and  permanent 
In  lives  to  which  thine  own  was  cheer  and 

light. 
Wisdom   and   meekness   clothed   thee   with 

their  might ; 

In  thee  the  sage  and  saint  were  equal  blent ; 
Strength,  courage,  tenderness  dwelt  in  thy 

tent, 
Thou  soldier  of  the  everlasting  Right ! 

By  so  much  as  we  mourn  thee,  we  rejoice 
That  we  have  known  thee  in  these  earthly 

ways, 

And  with  thee  striven  for  the  things  unseen  : 
Still  in  our  silences  will  speak  thy  voice 
And  thy  dear  memory  inspire  our  days, 
Till  we  too  pass  the  veil  that  hangs  between. 

December,  1893 


'INCARNATE   CHEER' 

'  Have  n't  I  a  right  to  be  grave,  too,  sometimes  ?' 
J.  LI.  J. 

No  rights  of  gravity  to  thee,  dear  friend  ! 
We  need  one  face  about  our  world  to  mend 
Heart's  hurt  and  set  jarred  minds  in  tune, 
And  sure  to  do  this  as  the  blessed  June ; 
One  voice  whose   bell   shall  ring  away  all 

fear ; 
One   hand   in   which   we   grasp    '  incarnate 

cheer ; ' 
One   steadfast   smile   rayed   out  from  eyes 

alight, 
To  make  men  say,  '  He  's  come !  now  all  is 

right ! ' 

To  J.  LI.  J.  on  his  birthday,  1887 


THIRTY  THOUSAND 

'  THIRTY  thousand  I '  said  the  Fate, 

Mixer  of  the  days  to  be, 
As  she  passed  the  mystic  gate,  — 

Little  Quaker  baby,  she  ! 

Thirty  thousand  days  and  nights  — 
This  the  dower  with  which  she  came 

All  their  sounds  and  all  their  sights 
Vested  in  the  tiny  dame. 

'  Thirty  thousand,'  said  the  Fate  ; 

But  who  draw  the  royal  breath 
Into  deeds  the  days  translate, 

Dainty  Queen  Elizabeth ! 

Price  is  high  for  royal  dowers  ; 

Thee  must  earn  thy  golden  state ! 
Spendthrift  gods  fling  out  the  hours, 

Miser  gods  keep  count  and  weight. 


78  THIRTY  THOUSAND 

Day  and  night  and  night  and  day, 
One  by  one  the  thousands  flee : 

Lady  of  the  Yea  and  Nay, 

Thou  hast  earned  thy  queenerie  ! 

Earned  it  as  a  noble  should, 

Dauntless,  tireless,  gentle-strong ; 

Giving  Yea  to  every  good, 
Daring  Nay  to  every  wrong. 

Not  in  calendars  thy  fame, 
But  secrete  in  happy  prayer ; 

Lips  have  blessed  thee  —  not  by  name 
Thanking  God  for  '  daily  care.' 

Thou  dost  leave  a  sweeter  earth, 
Less  of  poison,  less  of  fen, 

By  thy  precedent  of  worth 

Stablished  in  the  world's  Amen. 

Thou  art  part  of  all  uplift ! 

One  tint  brighter  rises  morn 
Henceforth  ever,  —  this  thy  gift 

Wheresoe'er  a  child  is  born. 

To  E.  B.  C.,  on  her  eightieth  birthday,  1886 


GOLDEN  WEDDING 

WHAT  do  you  see,  dear  hill-top  pair, 
Side  by  side  in  the  quiet  there, 
Looking  down  through  the  golden  air 
On  the  days  of  long  ago  ? 

Sounds  of  the  valley's  push  and  throng, 
Din  of  its  labor  and  cries  of  its  wrong,  — 
Do  they  rise  and  blend  to  an  evening  song, 
As  you  stand  and  listen  so  ? 

Is  the  valley  filling  with  shadows  dim? 
Do  the  hills  grow  bright  on  the  eastern  rim, 
The  hills  where  you  played  so  free  of  limb, 
In  the  days  of  long  ago  ? 

Tell  us  your  secrets,  our  two-in-one  1 
Do  fifty  years  of  the  rising  sun 
Draw  love  the  closer  for  each  year  run,  — 
Will  you  whisper,  you  who  know  ? 


80  GOLDEN   WEDDING 

Beautiful  secrets  that  none  can  tell 
Till  sunsets  chant  and  the  roses  spell,  — 
As  they  do  for  twos  !  as  two  knew  well 
In  the  days  of  long  ago. 

But  say,  O  lover  by  love  long  taught, 
Why,  under  the  gray  the  years  have  brought, 
She  stands  as  a  maiden  to  our  thought, 
And  a  rose  that  waits  to  blow. 

Tell  us  the  secret  of  home-spun  ways, 
Of  spinning-wheel  hours  in  city  days, 
Clean  and  calm  as  a  Quaker  phrase 
Of  the  simple  long  ago. 

Tell  what  you  see  on  the  farther  side, 
Where  the  new  horizons  open  wide, 
And  you  hear  the  step  of  a  coming  Guide 
The  way  of  the  hills  to  show. 

Out  of  the  quiet  that  holds  you  there 
There  seems  to  float  through  the  golden  air, 
Like  the  brooding  music  after  prayer 
Or  a  song  of  long  ago  :  — 


GOLDEN  WEDDING  81 

'  Little  we  see  ;  but  hand  in  hand 
Fearless  we  turn  to  the  still,  new  land, 
Fearless  to  go  as  here  to  stand ; 
For  this  in  our  hearts  we  know,  — 

'  Wherever  we  go,  Love  goeth  too ; 
Whatever  may  pass,  Love  lasteth  through : 
And  Love  shall  be  sweet  and  dear  and  true 
As  in  days  of  long  ago.' 

For  J.  D.  and  M.  D.  :  1836-1886 


TWILIGHT 

THE  sunset  glow  is  ebbing ; 

Within  the  rose-rimmed  sky 
The  stars  wait  wide  and  lonely 

The  slow  day's  passing  by. 

The  evening  dusks  the  valleys ; 

The  hill-tops  yet  are  lit ; 
The  shadow  broadens  upward, 

And  the  quiet  climbs  with  it. 

All  that  the  day  dissevers 
Now,  in  the  twilight  dun, 

Nestles  again  together,  — 

The  far  and  the  near  are  one. 


Within  her  cloistered  chamber 
Brooded  the  evening  peace, 

As  the  dear  life  faded  slowly, 
Too  happy  to  wish  release. 


TWILIGHT  83 

In  the  widening  hush  she  waited, 

In  the  beautiful  after-glow, 
The  hills  of  her  memory  gleaming, 

The  shadows  climbing  below. 

The  holy  twilight  falling 

Was  not  of  the  star  and  sun ; 
The  earth  and  the  heaven  lights  mingled,  — 

And  the  far  and  near  were  one. 

0.  M.  N.,  1894 


'DEATH   AS   FRIEND' 

After  a  picture  by  Alfred  Bethel 

So  still ! 

The  little  bird  sits  on  the  window-sill ; 
The  sun  behind  him  is  sinking  slow ; 
Down  below  in  the  city  streets 
The  people  are  going  to  and  fro,  — 

Going  home,  for  their  work  is  done. 

<  Tong !     Tong ! ' 
It  is  vesper-hour, 
And  soft  strong  booms 
Steal  out  from  the  great  cathedral  tower 
Over  the  house-tops,  over  the  plain, 
Out  towards  the  sun  : 
'  Tong  !     Tong ! 
Go  home,  for  work  is  done ! ' 

The  old  bell-ringer, 
He,  too,  is  so  still ! 
Fifty  years,  at  the  vesper  hour, 
He  has  rung  the  bell  in  his  eyrie  tower  ; 


' DEATH  AS  FRIEND "  85 

A  dweller  there  with  the  birds  in  the  sky, 
In  the  fields  of  quiet  that  overlie 
The  toil  of  cities,  —  ringing  '  Peace  ! 
Go  home,  for  work  is  done  ! ' 

There,  alone, 

Where  the  undertone 
Of  the  city  toil  moans  up  to  him, 
He  has  done  his  part  in  the  busy  day, 
Ringing  the  pauses  for  men  to  pray,  — 
Simply,  faithfully,  fifty  years  ; 
Ever,  in  heart,  at  his  oaken  board 
Breaking  his  bread  with  the  crucified  Lord, 

In  whose  great  name 

The  bells  proclaim 
'  Peace !  go  home,  for  work  is  done  ! ' 

One  by  one 
The  strokes  sound  on. 
He  sits  in  the  chair  by  the  window-sill : 
The  little  bird  wonders  at  him  so  still, 
So  still  in  the  fingers,  so  still  in  the  face ! 
'  What  ails  the  ringer  ? '  the  people  say, 
'  The  vesper-bell  rings  long  to-day : 
We  have  all  gone  home, 
And  work  is  done.' 


86  'DEATH  AS  FRIEND' 

Low,  low, 

In  the  evening  glow, 
It  tolls  and  tolls. 

In  the  belfry  stands  a  hooded  shape, 
With  a  palmer's  shell  on  his  shoulder-cape, 
As  one  who  goeth  from  place  to  place : 
He  grasps  the  rope  with  a  bony  hand, 
Bending  with  a  tender  grace 
To  each  rhythm  of  sweeping  sound. 
With  a  noiseless  foot  he  has  climbed  the  stair, 
And  touched  the  old  man  sitting  there, 
Waiting  for  the  vesper-hour,  and  said, 
'  To-night  I  ring  for  you,  old  friend : 
Go  home,  for  work  is  done ! ' 

So  still ! 

The  little  bird  flies  from  the  window-sill, 
The  sun  has  set,  and  down  below 
The  people  are  saying,  '  It  never  rang  so, 

Never  before,  so  sweet  and  low ! ' 
R.  LI.  J.,  1885 


A.  L.  G. 

1846 

So  early  lost,  I  cannot  tell  the  lift 

Of  mother-arms  1     A  toy  or  two,  her  gift ; 

A  small  white  gown,  her  needle  in  its  seam; 

And,  dim  as  is  a  dream  within  a  dream, 

A  little  figure  at  a  shadow's  feet, 

Or  walking  hand  in  hand  upon  the  street,  — 

A  gentle  shadow  with  an  unseen  face,  — 

No  smile,  no  tone,  no  foot-fall  mine  for  trace  : 

That  is  my  unknown  Mother ! 

Yet  I  know 

The  inmost  currents  of  my  being  flow 
From  her  high  springs  ;  the  faiths  that  in  me 

rise 
Have  once  made   happy  lights  within  her 

eyes ; 


88  A.  L.  G. 

The  gardens  of  my  heart  are  seeded  thick 
With  border-blooms  that  first  in  hers  were 

quick ; 

My  very  thought  of  God  is  her  bequest, 
Sealed  mine  before  I  lay  upon  her  breast ! 

O  Mother,  could  an  earthly  smile  suffice, 
And  these  not  serve  me  well  to  recognize  ? 
Inwrought  and  deathless  tokens  pledge  us 

joy 

What  day  my  Mother  meets  her  grateful 
boy! 

1894 


ALMA  MATER 

FROM  many  ways  and  wide  apart, 

Obedient  to  thy  call, 
Hither  we  turn  with  loyal  heart, 

Dear  Mother  of  us  all ! 

We  walk  the  well-known  paths  once  more 

Amid  the  summer's  bloom ; 
We  pass  familiar  thresholds  o'er, 

And  breathe  the  air  of  home. 

Nor  we  alone ;  they  come  unseen, 

Unheard  their  footsteps  fall ; 
Voices  long  hushed  to  earth  within 

The  cloistered  silence  call. 

O,  more  than  gold  has  been  the  lore 
We  learned  beside  thy  knee,  — 

The  faith  that  grows  from  more  to  more, 
The  truth  that  maketh  free ; 


90  ALMA  MATER 

The  strength  to  do  and  to  endure 
Through  good  report  and  ill, 

The  heart  of  love,  the  conscience  pure, 
And  the  undaunted  will. 

Be  proud,  O  Mother,  of  thy  past ! 

It  lives  in  thee  to-day  ; 
And  still  its  high  traditions  cast 

Their  light  upon  thy  way. 

Our  love  and  hope  ring  out  their  chime 

Above  thy  festival ; 
Blessings  upon  thee  through  all  time, 

Thou  who  hast  blessed  us  all ! 

1890 


THE  VILLAGE  MEETING-HOUSE 

STILL  stands  the  ancient  meeting-house 

Upon  the  village-green, 
And  white  above  the  circling  trees 

The  belfry  tower  is  seen. 

Uncolored  through  the  simple  panes 
The  common  sunlight  pours  ; 

No  Gothic  arches  spring  above 
The  latched  and  painted  doors. 

Their  thresholds  witness  to  the  tread 

Of  feet  long  since  at  rest 
In  yonder  field  of  moss-grown  slates 

With  Bible-text  impressed. 

No  more  at  rise  and  set  of  sun 

Is  heard  the  numbered  toll 
That  spoke  to  all  the  country  round 

The  passing  of  a  soul : 


92          VILLAGE  MEETING-HOUSE 

Yet  still  with  every  new-born  week, 

Across  the  meadows  fair 
And  over  all  the  upland  farms, 

Sounds  the  old  call  to  prayer. 

I  walked  again  the  village  street 
By  absence  made  more  dear  ; 

That  summer  Sunday  held  the  bloom 
And  fragrance  of  the  year. 

I  followed  with  the  worshippers 
The  ancient  house  within  ; 

For  me  with  all  I  saw  and  heard 
Was  mingled  what  had  been. 

For  memory  had  new-kindled  love, 
And  love  had  quickened  faith ; 

I  lived  that  hour  within  a  world 
That  knew  not  change  and  death. 

I  minded  not  the  preacher's  theme, 
Nor  caught  the  words  of  prayer ; 

My  thought  had  passed  within  the  veil 
And  walked  with  spirits  there. 


VILLAGE  MEETING-HOUSE         93 

The  faithful  shepherd  of  the  flock, 
Whose  years  knew  such  increase, 

Who  led  in  wisdom's  simple  ways 
And  by  the  streams  of  peace ; 

The  wise  and  upright  citizen, 

To  each  good  cause  allied, 
Who  brightened  more  an  honored  name 

Through  all  the  country-side ; 

And  souls  that  well  had  borne  their  part, 

And  little  children  fair  ;  — 
Their  unforgotten  faces  gleamed 

In  the  illumined  air. 

I  love  the  minster's  vaulted  roof, 

Its  walls  of  old  renown, 
Where  sculptured  marbles  voice  the  past 

And  windowed  saints  look  down  : 

Nor  less  I  feel  our  Hebrew  strain, 

Distrustful  still  of  art, 
That  lifts  to  the  Invisible 

Immediate  the  heart. 


94          VILLAGE  MEETING-HOUSE 

For  inward  more  than  outward  is, 
The  soul  than  any  shrine  ; 

Alone  our  living  love  and  trust 
The  altar  make  divine. 

Long  may  the  ancient  meeting-house 
Rise  from  the  village-green, 

And  over  all  the  country  round 
Its  belfried  tower  be  seen : 

Still  may  the  call  to  praise  and  prayer 
Be  heard  each  Sunday  morn, 

And  bind  in  growing  faith  the  past 
With  ages  yet  unborn ! 

NORTHBOROUGH,  MASS. 


THE  DAYS 

IN  Father  Time's  old  nursery 

The  little  Morrows  wait, 
Each  one  impatient  to  be  out, 

Impatient  to  be  great ; 
On  bravely  through  the  sun  to  go, 

On  bravely  through  the  showers, 
A  world  to  see,  a  Day  to  be  ! 

The  happy-hearted  Hours  1 

So  one  by  one  he  lets  them  out, 

His  Days  so  young  and  strong, 
The  morning  shining  in  their  face, 

And  on  their  lips  a  song. 
When  home  they  come,  their  work  all  done, 

There  's  quiet  in  their  ways, 
And  shadows  rise  and  haunt  their  eyes,  — 

They  're  dear  old  Yesterdays  ! 


96  THE  DAYS 

And  now  we  love  them  for  the  half 

Of  all  that  we  hold  dear,  — 
The  echo- side  of  every  word, 

The  far  to  every  near ; 
The  sunset  touch  to  every  hope 

That  fades  along  our  skies, 
The  after-dream,  the  vanished  gleam, 

The  love  in  long-shut  eyes. 

ROCHESTER  :  'Fiftieth  Anniversary,'  1892 


THE  OLD  LOVE-SONG 

PLAY  it  slowly,  sing  it  lowly, 

Old,  familiar  tune  ! 
Once  it  ran  in  dance  and  dimple, 

Like  a  brook  in  June ; 
Now  it  sobs  along  the  measures 

With  a  sound  of  tears  ; 
Dear  old  voices  echo  through  it, 

Vanished  with  the  years. 

Ripple,  ripple,  goes  the  love-song, 

Till  in  slowing  time 
Early  sweetness  grows  completeness, 

Floods  its  every  rhyme. 
Who  together  learn  the  music 

Life  and  death  unfold, 
Know  that  love  is  but  beginning 

Until  love  is  old. 


THE  OLD  LOVE-SONG 

Play  it  slowly,  —  it  is  holy 

As  an  evening  hymn  ; 
Morning  gladness  hushed  to  sadness 

Fills  it  to  the  brim. 
Memories  home  within  the  music, 

Stealing  through  the  bars  ; 
Thoughts  within  its  quiet  spaces 

Rise  and  set  like  stars. 

For  J.  W.  C.  and  A.  H.  C.:  1865-1890 


THE  DEAR  TOGETHERNESS 

I  DREAMED  of  Paradise,  —  and  still, 
Though  sun  lay  soft  on  vale  and  hill 
And  trees  were  green  and  rivers  bright, 
The  one  dear  thing  that  made  delight 
By  sun  or  stars  or  Eden  weather, 
Was  just  that  we  two  were  together. 

I  dreamed  of  Heaven,  —  with  God  so  near ! 
The  angels  trod  the  shining  sphere, 
And  each  was  beautiful ;  the  days 
Were  choral  work,  were  choral  praise  : 
And  yet  in  Heaven's  far-shining  weather 
The  best  was  still,  —  we  were  together  ! 

I  woke,  —  and  lo,  my  dream  was  true, 
That  happy  dream  of  me  and  you ! 
For  Eden,  Heaven,  no  need  to  roam,  — 
The  foretaste  of  it  all  is  Home, 

Where   you   and  I  through   this  world's 
weather 

Still  work  and  praise  and  thank  together. 


100       THE  DEAR    TOGETHERNESS 

Together  weave  from  love  a  nest 

For  all  that 's  good  and  sweet  and  blest 

To  brood  in,  till  it  come  a  face, 

A  voice,  a  soul,  a  child's  embrace,  — 

And  then  what  peace  of  Bethlehem  wea 
ther, 

What  songs  as  we  go  on  together  1 

Together  greet  life's  solemn  real, 

Together  own  one  glad  ideal, 

Together  laugh,  together  ache, 

And  think  one  thought,  '  each  other's  sake,' 

And  hope  one  hope,  —  in  new-world  wea 
ther 

To  still  go  on,  and  go  together  ! 

Home  Dedication,  1891 


HERO   BY  BREVET 

I  SAW  a  veteran  to-day, 

With  hobbling  foot  and  staff  to  stay, 

In  slow  march  by  the  window  stray. 

'  What  rank  ?  '     There  was  no  epaulet,  — 
Some  humble  rank  that  privates  get: 
The  face  said,  Hero  by  brevet. 

'  What  regiment  ? '     I  only  know 
They  take  the  front  where'er  they  go, 
As  that  were  badge  enough  to  show. 

'  No  colors  ? '     None  that  I  could  see,  — 
A  few  gray  locks  were  waving  free, 
Like  shot-torn  banners  greeting  me. 

'  In  service  where  ? '     How  could  I  guess  ? 
No  boast  of  battles  marred  the  dress, 
But  eyes  were  full  of  field- success. 


102  HERO  BY  BREVET 

'  No  scars  or  maim,  no  empty  sleeve  ?  ' 
Only  the  smile  that  sufferings  leave 
And  weary  days  and  nights  achieve. 

'  And  all  alone,  —  no  comrade-brother  ? ' 
Alone,  yet  loved  beyond  all  other. 
'  By   whom  ? '      By  men   who    call    her 
Mother  1 

1886 


NURSERY  LOGIC 

THERE  in  the  nursery  stood  the  case, 
Old  and  battered  and  brown  with  age,  — 

Dear  Aunt  Ann's  with  the  saintly  face,  — 
Till  one  of  our  toddlers,  in  cherubic  rage, 

Chanced  on  a  spring  and  a  drawer  flew  wide, 

And  lo,  a  plain  gold  ring  inside  ! 

Wee  Aunt  Ann  with  the  mystic  smile, 

That  was  the  secret  thy  eyes  held  fast ! 
Did  they  learn  their  smile  in  the  long-ago 

while 
When  the  wooers  came  and  the  wooers 

passed, 
And  not  one  dreamed  that  a  drawer  flew 

wide, 
A  drawer  with  a  plain  gold  ring  inside  ? 


104  NURSERY  LOGIC 

Nobody  guessed  from  then  till  now, 
Little  maid-aunt,  thy  secret  sweet ! 

Then  nobody  shall,  but  he  and  thou, 

Long  in  the  heaven  where  old  loves  meet. 

But  —  knows  he  yet  that  a  drawer  flew  wide 

To  show  his  plain  gold  ring  inside  ? 

So  we  all  agreed,  the  children  and  I, 
Dropping  again  the  ring  in  its  place, 

Never  to  spy  what  lives  so  shy 

There  in  the  heart  of  the  old  brown  case. 

But   the   children   say,    '  If  a   drawer   flew 
wide,  — 

There  's  a  dear  little  uncle  and  aunt  inside  ! ' 

Who  f  is  his  name.     O,  they  know  well,  — 
Have  christened  him,  wedded  him  now  for 

true ! 
But  that  is  her  secret,  and  they  won't  tell ; 

So  it 's  just  '  Aunt  Ann  and  Uncle  Who  ?  ' 
And  (bless  their  logic  !)  they  hear,  inside, 
Three  little  dream-cousins  who  laugh  and 
hide. 


NURSERY  LOGIC  105 

Cousins  real  to  the  poets  small, 

Brooding  the  dream,  as  they  themselves ; 
Christened  and  charactered,  each  and  all, 

Discrete,  insular,  untwinned  elves  ! 
Poets  —  or  prophets  ?     Should  heaven  ope 

wide, 
Whose  are  the  children  at  Aunt  Ann's  side  ? 

1888 


HOW  LITTLE  JO  NAMED  THE 
BABY 

HE  stood  beside  the  cradle, 

A  tender-brooding  care, 
Watching  with  love-illumined  eyes 

The  baby  brother  there. 

He  stood  beside  the  cradle, 

While  busily  without 
The  mother  plied  her  morning  work 

The  happy  home  about. 

Three  moons  had  bloomed  and  faded 
Since  '  Baby '  earthward  came, 

Nor  yet  with  seeking  far  or  near 
Was  found  a  fitting  name. 


HOW' LITTLE  JO,  ETC.  107 

Anon  the  door  was  opened,  — 
The  mother  paused  and  smiled, 

As,  face  all  tremulous  with  joy, 
Up  spake  the  little  child  : 

'  Mamma,  I  've  named  the  baby  !  ' 
'  You  have  ?     What  is  it,  Jo  ?  ' 

'  I  'm  going  to  call  him  God,  Mamma, 
That 's  the  best  name  I  know.' 

O  depth  of  heavenly  wisdom 

Alone  to  love  unsealed,  — 
Hid  from  the  wise  and  prudent  ones 

And  unto  babes  revealed  1 

Wee  prophet  of  the  Highest, 

Who  touched  thy  little  tongue 
To  speak  so  clear  the  holiest  thought 

That  e'er  was  said  or  sung? 

The  preaching  of  the  pulpit 

Seems  vague  and  far  away, 
Beside  thy  bolder  faith  that  sees 

'  Immanuel '  to-day. 


108  HOW  LITTLE  JO,  ETC. 

Ah,  well  if  in  each  other, 
As  through  the  world  we  go, 

We  saw  what  -in  that  babe  was  seen 
And  named  by  little  Jo  1 

CLEVELAND,  1886 


IN  THE   ALBULA  PASS. 

To  right,  to  left,  the  mountain  wall  — 
Above,  the  narrow  strip  of  sky ; 

And  at  my  feet  the  Albula  stream 
With  youth's  impatience  rushes  by. 

The  air  comes  cool  from  snowy  heights 
And  tonic  with  the  breath  of  pine ; 

Around  me  like  a  glory  spread 

The  flowers  in  rainbow  beauty  shine. 

I  leave  the  cares  that  weighed  me  down, 
The  heat  and  burden  of  the  plain ; 

I  feel  the  strengthening  of  the  hills 
And  drink  the  wine  of  youth  again. 

Why  thus  in  haste,  bright  mountain  stream, 
To  leave  these  haunts,  so  fair  to  me, 

Full  soon  to  find  the  dusty  plain, 
Too  soon  the  all-engulfing  sea? 


110  IN  THE  ALBULA  PASS 

There   comes   a   voice,  —  the    streams    can 
speak ! — 

'  Fair  is  my  home  and  youth  is  free, 
And  glad  my  days,  yet  will  I  go 

On  to  the  plain,  the  unknown  sea ! 

'  For  life  is  motion  and  not  rest, 
Nor  fear  I  what  at  last  shall  be ; 

The  Hand  that  raised  these  mountain  heights 
Has  scooped  the  hollows  of  the  sea  1 ' 

I  turn  me  from  the  happy  stream, 
All  bright  the  years  before  me  lie ; 

The  mountains  sink  as  up  I  climb. 
And  nearer  grows  the  widening  sky. 

CANTON  GRISONS,  July,  1888 


CORONADO  BEACH 

THE  air  is  tonic  with  the  salty  breath 
Of  coursing  billows  that  at  last  are  free ; 
Sounds  low  and  sweet  old  Ocean's  symphony, 
Whose  thought    the   varying    heart    inter- 

preteth. 
With  upturned  face   and  folded    palms   in 

death 

Lies  Corpus  Christi  in  mute  effigy ; 
Point  Loma,  sphinx-like,  gazes  o'er  the  sea 
Nor  heeds  the  questioning  wave  that  breaks 

beneath. 

Along  the  shore  the  solemn  mountains  keep 
Their  immemorial  watch ;  in  yonder  town, 
Sheltered  between   them   and   the   curving 

deep, 
Unheard  the  tides  of  life  move  up  and  down. 

0  peace  of  Nature !  here  my  burdens  fall, 

1  rest  upon  the  mighty  Heart  of  all ! 

SAN  DIEGO,  February,  1894 


DOVER 

MOUSE-HOLE  in  December, 

Quiet  little  Dover ! 
What  shall  I  remember, 

Now  the  days  are  over? 

Snow  in  hushes  falling; 

Blue  days  creeping  by ; 
Trees  in  still  processions 

Etched  upon  the  sky ; 
And  a  silent  village 

Where  the  gray  stones  lean, 
Whispering  of  a  Dover 

They  alone  have  seen. 

All  I  shall  remember, 

Now  the  days  are  over,  — 

Mouse-hole  in  December, 
Quiet  little  Dover ! 


DOVER  113 

When  I  shall  be  lying 

With  a  gray  stone  over, 
Will  this  great  World  dim  to 

Just  a  little  Dover  ? 

DOVER,  MASS.,  1886 


8 

4 


WE   SEE   AS   WE   ARE 

THE  poem  hangs  on  the  berry-bush, 
When  comes  the  poet's  eye ; 

The  street  begins  to  masquerade, 
When  Shakespeare  passes  by. 

The  Christ  sees  white  in  Judas'  heart, 

He  loves  his  traitor  well; 
And  God,  to  angel  his  new  Heaven, 

Explores  his  lowest  Hell. 

1885 


TREE-SURPRISE 

THERE  's  a  rapture  in  the  air, 
Thrilling  all  the  branches  bare 
With  the  musical  vibrations  of  an  unheard 

tune ; 

Silent  trees  in  winter  trance 
Feel  a  something  in  them  dance,  — 
Then  a  leaf  and  bud  commotion,  and  a  world 
one  June ! 

There  's  a  trouble  in  the  air, 
And  a  fog  of  white  despair ; 
Stiff  and  black  the  trees  are  standing,  —  are 

they  dead,  all  dead  ? 
In  an  hour  I  lift  my  eyes, 
And,  behold !  a  tree-surprise,  — 
Every  twig  is  flashing  crystal  from  the  white 
gloom  bred ! 


116  TREE-SURPRISE 

Unheard  music  in  the  air, 
Is  it  rapture  or  despair 
In  my  tree  of  life  the  Hands  will  play  for 

this  day's  tune  ? 
But  why  ask  it  or  why  care, 
With  that  gloom-born  beauty  there, 
And  the  Hands  to  play  December  that  shall 
yet  play  June  ? 

1885 


A  DAY  IN  OCTOBER 

I  LEAVE  behind  the  crowded  street, 

The  city's  noise  and  stir, 
And  face  to  face  with  Nature  meet,  - 

Her  happy  worshipper. 

I  walk  the  unfrequented  road 

With  open  eye  and  ear ; 
I  watch  afield  the  farmer  load 

The  bounty  of  the  year. 

I  filch  the  fruit  of  no  man's  toil, 

No  trespasser  am  I, 
And  yet  I  reap  from  every  soil 

And  the  unmeasured  sky. 

I  gather  where  T  did  not  sow, 
And  bind  in  mystic  sheaf 

The  amber  air,  the  river's  flow, 
The  rustle  of  the  leaf,  — 


118  A   DAY  IN  OCTOBER 

The  squirrels'  chatter  in  the  trees, 

The  sunlight  sifted  down, 
The  wholesome  odors  on  the  breeze 

O'er  ripened  harvests  blown,  — 

The  hills  in  distance  purple-hued, 

The  tinkling  waterfall, 
The  '  deep  contentment  of  the  wood,' 

The  peace  o'erbrooding  all. 

The  maples  glow  beside  the  streams 

And  fleck  the  pastures  sear, 
Like  smiles  that  break  from  happy  dreams,  - 

So  smiles  the  waning  year ! 

A  beauty  springtime  never  knew 

Haunts  all  the  quiet  ways, 
And  sweeter  shines  the  landscape  through 

Its  veil  of  autumn  haze, 

The  blessing  of  the  early  rain 

And  all  the  summer's  shine 
Are  garnered  in  the  golden  grain 

And  purple  of  the  vine. 


A  DAY  IN  OCTOBER  119 

What  though  the  groves  are  silent  ail, 

No  bird  within  them  sings, 
Nor  on  the  quiet  meadows  fall 

Shadows  from  sunlit  wings  : 

Yet  is  their  summer  music  part 

Of  the  still  atmosphere,  — 
So  Nature  keeps  by  subtle  art 

To  sight  what  pleased  the  ear. 

And  all  my  separate  senses  seem 

To  be  but  passive  keys, 
Whereon  she  plays  her  world-old  theme 

To  wondrous  harmonies. 

I  face  the  hills,  the  streams,  the  wood, 

And  feel  with  all  akin ; 
I  ope  my  heart,  —  their  fortitude 

And  peace  and  joy  flow  in. 

Like  him  of  old  on  Horeb's  mount 

I  take  again  my  way, 
New-strengthened  from  the  healing  fount 

Of  this  October  day. 

MICHIGAN,  1892 


INDEX  OF  FIRST   LINES 


PAGE 

'  A  cloud  received  him  out  of  sight '      ...  62 

A  little  House  of  Life 31 

Along  the  pathless  prairie 72 

A  rugged  rock  is  the  mountain 67 

As  silent  as  the  sun-gleam  in  the  forest      .     .  29 

Bring,  0  Morn,  thy  music !     Bring,  0  Night, 

thy  hushes 11 

From  age  to  age  they  gather 40 

From  many  ways  and  wide  apart      ....  89 

Gazing   upon    that  face  where    years    have 

wrought 70 

He  laid  his  rocks  in  courses 46 

He  stood  beside  the  cradle 106 

I  dreamed  of  Paradise,  —  and  still    ....  99 

I  leave  behind  the  crowded  street      ....  117 

In  Father  Time's  old  nursery 95 

I  saw  a  veteran  to-day 101 

It  sounds  along  the  ages 48 

Lo,  the  Day  of  days  is  here 57 


122          INDEX  OP  FIRST  LINES 

PAGE 

'Mid  my  life's  vicissitude 30 

Mouse-hole  in  December 112 

No  rights  of  gravity  to  thee,  dear  friend    .     .  76 
'  Nothing  but  a  poet! '     So  he  said,  and  won 
dered   68 

No  thrush  at  eve  had  ever  sweeter  song      .     .  66 

Not  when,  with  self  dissatisfied 33 

0  Fount  of  Being's  sea 22 

O  Light,  from  age  to  age  the  same     ....  42 

O  Lord  of  Life,  where'er  they  be 50 

One  thing  I  do  ;  the  things  behind  forgetting  35 

On  eyes  that  watch  through  sorrow's  night     .  51 

On  the  Judaean  hills 59 

On  the  rock  and  girt  with  ice 14 

0  Prophet  souls  of  all  the  years 9 

O  Thou  in  lonely  vigil  led 13 

0  Thou  whose  Spirit  witness  bears    ....  20 

Over  hills  and  valleys 26 

Over  the  land  in  glory 55 

Play  it  slowly,  sing  it  lowly 97 

Sleep,  my  little  Jesus 64 

So  early  lost,  I  cannot  tell  the  lift      ....  87 

So  still !   The  little  bird  sits  on  the  window-sill  84 

Still  stands  the  ancient  meeting-house    ...  91 

The  air  is  tonic  with  the  salty  breath      .     .     .  Ill 

The  morning  hangs  its  signal 16 


INDEX  OP  FIRST  LINES  123 

PAGE 

The  poem  hangs  on  the  berry-bush     ....  114 

There  in  the  nursery  stood  the  case   ....  103 

There  's  a  rapture  in  the  air 115 

They  came,  bringing  spices,  at  break  of  the  day  52 

The  sunset  glow  is  ebbing 82 

'  Thirty  thousand  ! '  said  the  Fate     ....  77 

This  edelweiss  I  wear  was  not  first  mine     .     .  15 

Thy  kingdom  come,  —  on  bended  knee       .     .  18 
Thy  work   abides,  though   thou   hast   passed 

from  sight 75 

To  right,  to  left,  the  mountain  wall    ....  109 

Unto  thee,  abiding  ever 24 

What  do  you  see,  dear  hill-top  pair    ....  79 

Whatsoever  is  just  and  pure 38 

What  will  the  violets  be 54 

Where  men  on  mounts  of  vision 44 


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